too ridiculous to forget
by Achos Laazov
Summary: "Love in Washington doesn't happen every day."
1. you & i have our differences

_(about 2.5 years before the Capitol bombing)_

It's a random Wednesday morning, and it's your turn to sit with the newbies in the tech office, walking the four of them through the forms necessary to receive their government-issued phones. It's a mind-numbing job - probably why you're the one stuck with it - and you stifle your third yawn of the day.

It's 9:30am.

At 9:32, you're attempting to hold back your fourth yawn, when the door to the room opens. A thin dark-haired breeze of a girl slips in.

You frown and get up from your seat to block her path. Your office is usually very one top of staff, and as far as you know, there aren't any more West-Wingers starting today, other than the four you're already babysitting. "Are you the new chef's assistant?"

She turns around - wow, she's really pretty - and smiles back at you. "No, I'm actually starting in Weaver Federal today. Department of Housing and Urban Development."

"I didn't realize interns get government tech." You don't really mean to poke fun, but she looks really young and it slips out before you can stop it.

The breeze turns into a hurricane - fascinating, beautiful, and angry. "Emily Rhodes. New assistant Chief of Staff to the HUD Secretary. You are...?" She manages to look down at him while looking up to meet his eyes.

"Aaron Shore. Third Deputy Chief of Staff to the President of the United States. Pleasure to meet you. Don't you need a high school diploma for that job?" This Emily looks really young, and you can't resist stirring the winds a little more.

She tosses her hair back, sighs, and then lightning joins the storm. "I'm in Washington to work and to make a difference to the nation, not to argue with an undersecretary in the tech room about my age. So I'd appreciate if you'd let you me do what I came here for."

That much fire is impressive from such a slight person. You step back to let her pass to the tech desk, and make a mental note to keep an eye on her career. She'll be going places.

* * *

You're promoted.

Every time you meet Emily in the White House hallways or at the Weaver offices, the storm continues -

"Who let you in? School groups are only allowed on Tuesdays -"

"Aren't you in the wrong hallway? Kitchen's down there -"

"Don't interns have to wear their ID tags at all time in this building? -"

"Oops, sorry, didn't see you there. You're under my line of vision -"

"Tourists must stay with their groups to avoid arrest -"

"Here to turn in your tech? -"

* * *

She's promoted quickly, just like you predicted to yourself.

"Good thing it's Tuesday. Otherwise you couldn't be here -"

"You might want to step back before I grill you with my burgers -"

"That only applies if you're not up-to-date on the rules. Guess you're behind the times -"

"Seriously, is that your best? Thought you were sharper -"

"Then why are you wandering around the halls alone? -"

"No, I'm here to take over your position -"

Usually accompanied by flashing eyes and a blazing fire that you kind of enjoy fueling. Your coworkers find your little game amusing and slightly childish, but you can't stop yourself around her.

* * *

You're promoted again.


	2. there is no hill

The Capitol explodes and the world changes, and you feel like you're repairing the Hoover Dam with duct tape, you're numb and in shock and running on adrenaline and prayer. Lots and lots of prayer - for yourself; for the new, slightly clueless president; for your friends and colleagues that died, that you don't stop to think about. You're needed in too many places. No time to contemplate, to grieve, because there's no time to collapse and wallow. The government must keep functioning.

You're rushing across the White House, back and forth, to the PEOC, to talk to Secret Service, to get updates from District and Capitol police; _**not**_ thinking that really Charlie Langdon should be doing this.

You're threatening staff not to talk to the media, you're interrupting the President and First Lady in their stolen moment alone, you're introducing him to the nuclear football. You're approving Emily Rhodes' request to enter the White House that security forwards you. You're _**not**_ attempting to count how many people were in the Capitol building tonight.

You're on your way back to PEOC when someone's calling your name.

"Hey, Aaron - finally got past the gate -" You smile inwardly, knowing why.

"Is Tom going to be there? I've been with Secretary Kirkman's staff for three years now -"

Lighthearted banter for a brief second, the normalcy of bickering with Emily refreshing in the weight of tonight. "Well, it is his meeting," and then you're back to being serious, "and you're not authorized."

You're contacting the Iranian embassy, locating a junior staffer similar in build to Kirkman, finding them somewhere to change. You're _**not**_ thinking about what America's lost tonight. You're just - not. You're not feeling now. You can't yet.

* * *

The sun is beginning to peek over the horizon when you finally leave the White House. _So much for getting home early tonight_ , you think as you arrive home.

It feels like years since you were there last. Yesterday morning. Before the Capitol and the night that - you didn't process yet.

You look around, as if to see that everything is where you left it. Nothing's changed here but outside, everything has.

Twenty-minute cat nap. Shower. Shave. Find a clean suit and tie, and you're heading back to work a little over an hour later, thankful and aware of the thousand people who aren't heading back to work this morning.

* * *

Morning briefing is a tornado; loud and confusing, and leaving a mess in its wake. The room falls into a quiet shock when the President slams the door. No one saw him walk out and you come to a silent agreement with Emily.

The two of you find Kirkman in the Cabinet meeting room, working from his old seat, as if the world has not changed in hundreds and thousands of ways since yesterday.

You point out that his workload would be lighter if he named a Chief of Staff. Emily seems to think it's part of your shared "game", and, eyes blazing fire, calls you out on it.

When the President - normally soft-spoken and unsure - raises his voice at you - "Enough!" - you watch, impressed, how her anger subsides into quickly cooling embers. Chastised, the two of you get to work on finding new Cabinet members. Together. Without poking fun. Which feels weird.

(But also kind of nice.)


	3. post-disaster acceleration

_It's not like Emily to be late_ , you muse, watching the news coverage of Miracle on The Potomac Peter MacLeish with Seth. As if reading your mind, she comes rushing in a moment later, muttering something about the trains not running yet.

 _Huh?_ You side-eye her. The Red Line went back up in middle of last night. But before you can ask her, President Kirkman comes in, and you mentally file it away for later.

There's a blackout and maybe another attack _how in the world did anyone hack our network_ that leaves all of you feeling more vulnerable than before, if even possible. When you finally do jokingly confront Emily, you're surprised at your reaction. You're happy she's happy. Emily's a good person who deserves joy. It's the way your heart drops at her mention at a boyfriend that shocks you.

"Love in Washington doesn't happen every day, Emily," you tell her, "you're one of the lucky ones."

 _And why am I suddenly not one of those few?_

* * *

The meeting with Congresswoman Hookstraten is over as its starts, and you're back in PEOC _again_ to see the terrorist's video and then out before the President's first televised interview.

You and Emily walk him down the hall to the media. Emily and Kirkman seem to be having a conversation in eyebrow gestures while you tell the President he should appear in command, smart; approachable, relatable; he interrupts with his own idea.

"What about sincere?"

 _Sigh_. His political innocence is almost adorable. "Sincere can work. You can go with sincere if you want."

Elizabeth Vargas is winding down her interview - sincerity is working well for the President - when she suddenly throws a curveball.

"Mr. President, _were you fired_?"

"Sir?" You move to intercept. Kirkman suddenly seems unsure of himself, and he accepts your lifeline gratefully. He meets you and Emily outside.

You explain, you discuss, you argue and _just agree with me already_ but Emily has other plans. Her commitment to honesty is slightly frustrating and impressive at the same time. She's as fiercely loyal to the truth as she is to her boss. They make a good team. President Kirkman will be in good hands if he picks her as his Chief of Staff.

You roll your eyes in disbelief and exasperation at what the President has elected to say. You start calculating what pitches you can toss out of your arsenal if America doesn't rally behind their President.

* * *

Robert Richmond's funeral is a weird mix of political and emotional. Richmond was a good boss, and you do miss his experienced professionalism. But you've been running on an adrenaline high and a caffeine drip since the attack which feels like years, not days; _shouldn't be enjoying a funeral_. It's quiet and peaceful in Arlington, and maybe you can use the venue to start working through your feelings and begin to grieve for your fallen friends.

And then Tyler Richmond tosses out a nasty slider that leaves you with a sinking feeling.

As the Congresswoman gets up to speak, you ask Emily under your breath, "Still think it was a good idea to tell the truth?" It's mostly serious but halfway an attempt at starting your game again.

* * *

It's late at night after a long day. _Like every day since the Capitol blew up_.

You've leaked classified interview. You've been confronted by an angry president. You've volunteered to resign in appeasement. You've given Kirkman a pep talk; a weird but necessary thing for the unexperienced president.

You've been promoted instead of fired. _That_ was a surprise.

Emily stops by the darkened office to congratulate and semi-jokingly threaten your job.

You frown. She's got a fiancee now. "You're really the lucky one," you tell her.

"I said no," she says, and quotes your words from earlier that day as the reason why.

Thoughtfully, you watch her turn to leave. _I've made an impression on her_ ; and in turn, her ambition has made an impression on you. She leaves Charlie's office.

 _Wait, no, it's my office now_.


	4. just mildly concerned

It's 7AM, and the day is starting with meeting President Kirkman's sense of humor for the first time, probably because of his sudden ascension to the office. You didn't even know he had a lighter side. You fill him in on everything that's happened in the three hours he slept - the longest stretch since he began his presidency - and leave him to his meeting with Congresswoman Hookstraten.

You stifle a yawn as you reach your office, jealous of Kirkman's three hours of sleep. You slept less than the President last night.

Those measly two-and-a-half hours is not nearly enough to deal with the problem Emily greets you with.

Michigan is spiraling out of control. After a brief discussion with the President, Emily volunteers to go smother the fireworks, to put out a fire with her bare hands.

Emily's already in the air when you call to wish her good luck with her firefighting efforts. She's a good coworker. You want her to be careful and safe so... so... so the two of you can continue your bickering game. Right. That's it.

You set Seth up to take care of the young, inexperienced, badly promoted press secretary. Carter, maybe? Seth confirms that - Carter Dunne, and you head back towards Kirkman's offices. The President is watching Governor Royce insult him on national TV.

 _How's Emily holding up_? You dial her cell, then hand yours over to Kirkman. He has a quick chat with Emily, sounding upset, then yells for Wyatt to catch the First Lady before she leaves the White House.

 _Isn't she in immigration law_? And then she starts reciting sections of the US Code as if she's reading from a law book in front of her, and Kirkman proudly tells you that she knows Constitutional law. _Yup. Can totally see that._

You go to the other room to get General Hammond on the line, and the President looks terrified as he orders the Michigan National Guard federalized. It's a large step for him, one that's obviously weighing his shoulders down.

 _Just checking in_ , you text Emily, telling her _good luck_ in your mind. She teases back, _I didn't know you cared_ , and then goes to deal with General Muñoz; you get to interrupt the President and his wife _again_. Not your favorite part of the job, but the fire in Michigan is growing into an inferno, and Em needs a rescue. Emily. Wait. When did she get a nickname?

President Kirkman doesn't want to put Emily _not Em_ at risk, and you nod in agreement with him. She's too loyal, too hard a worker to lose to a ridiculous coup.

Em asks for trust, and you pause, considering. She's smart and knows what she's doing. Kirkman looks at you, and evidently reaches the same conclusion as you. Em _ily_ promises to be careful. Hope she follows through on that.

Walking down the hall, you hear voices in the Press Room, and you duck inside just in time to see Seth rescue a sick and nauseous Carter Dunne fro a disaster of a press conference. He's impressively smooth.

Unlike Em - Emily's plan to diffuse tension in Michigan, but Kirkman seems to understand his Special Advisor. You both watch Emily stand up to the governor on TV, holding your breath that it will work.

You don't get to catch your breath. Before the conclusion can play out, there's new disaster waiting.

Couldn't General Cochrane have waited a couple of hours - even a few minutes - before effectively declaring war on Algeria? Down in PEOC, Kirkman seems to concede the General's point about snakes in kitchens, but then he surprises you. He straightens his back, stiffens his resolve, and dons the mantle of Commander-in-Chief. The President fires General Cochrane.

Wow. Respect.

Emily's on her way back from Michigan with Governor Royce, and you sit down to get some work done. Which of course doesn't happen. There's a knock at your office door, and a flood of White House press pool reporters are clamoring for POTUS to hire Seth Wright to replace Carter. Not a bad idea, and Kirkman agrees.

Seth doesn't. _Maybe that was the wrong way to go about it_ , and you leave Seth to his speechwriting.

The President asks you to join the motorcade the airport with him to meet Royce and Em. She looks horrified and devastated when Royce is placed under arrest for treason, and you watch her argue animatedly with the President. Her eyes flame up with sparks when she's upset, and you can't take your eyes off her lightning.

Later, you're clearing off your desk, preparing to go home, and you find out the reason for her anger. Em comes by, upset and venting about Kirkman's personality changing. She's losing faith in her friend? Mentor? "Maybe I never really knew him."

You sympathize, but tell her it will happen again. It's part of her job, "which you're very good at."

She looks at you sideways and fires back, "I didn't realize you were capable of giving compliments."

Accidentally, you let slip that you were worried about her in Michigan, and her eyes shine with laughter before you share a drink.

It's almost as pleasant as teasing each other.

Almost as pleasant?

More.


	5. poker face

It's ten minutes to 5AM when you call the President. You're back in your office after a quick trip home to shower and shave _what, two hours ago_? The couch in the office is comfortable enough for those days _nights_ _?_ that you have to be on alert.

The meeting with Admiral Chernow passes smoothly, and Seth, coming in, quickly realizes he shouldn't know anything. He's good. Smart, on the ball. Like Em. And neither have clearance, but Seth's status doesn't bother you. The expression on Emily's face when the elevator door closes between you is between grudging understanding and deep hurt. It's a horrible feeling, to put that look on a friend.

Disappointingly, the mission is aborted before it begins, and _is that the same Kirkman_ \- the President surprises you with some strong language on his way to the Kierstand and MacLeish medal ceremony. It's a nice one, short, _thank you_ _whoever planned this_ , and you get a text halfway through from Chernow. As soon as the President's role is over, you interrupt his chat with Congressman MacLeish and hurry him away. Back to business, back to politics, half-time show is over.

New intelligence says that Nassar is hiding out in a hospital, which means American boots on the ground to bring him in. Not good. Kirkman insists on going to Virginia to meet the men, and Chernow is impressed with the President's humble attitude. _It **is** refreshing to see that in Washington _ and you go to make arrangements for a helicopter.

You bump into Emily in the hallway. Almost literally. _She knows that it was political this morning, right, leaving her behind?_ It's important she realizes it was nothing personal at all; that you didn't want to hurt her. Your chest lightens a bit when she says she understands. _She's not upset at me._ You turn to continue on your way when it suddenly occurs to you: Emily's known the Kirkmans for a few years, right?

"Does the name Jeffrey Myers ring a bell?"

Her brow furrows in thought for a moment _she looks really cute like that_ but she doesn't recognize the name. Hmmm.

The rest of the day is pretty eventless, as if the world knows that tomorrow will be anything but.

* * *

First up: informing "Congress" that troops have been deployed overseas.

It's almost funny, how Congresswoman Hookstraten speaks like a politician, using twisting words and doublespeak even when lending support. The two Representatives leave the Oval, and it dawns on you - MacLeish will also be a senior Representative when the new Congress comes in. His quiet support for the President makes him a far better candidate for Speaker than the Congresswoman; now that there is more than one option. Kirkman allows you and Emily to feel it out when you mention it.

So you do.

The two of you are initially taken aback at his immediate and complete refusal to accept the job. He begins to explain, and you sense Emily's respect for the man growing at the same rate as your confusion. _What kind of person turns down a politically powerful position like Speaker_ _?_

The President is sitting along, thoughtful and serious, when you inform him the Nassar mission is about to begin. He comes with you to Command Ops, where the air in the room is crackling with tension and static electricity. Everyone is sitting on the edge of their seats.

Gunshot. You jump. The feed cuts out. _That can't be good_. Electricity is sparking. Chernow attempt to reconnect with the SEAL team.

The celebration of capturing Majid Nassar is rudely and abruptly interrupted by bad news. Clarkson won't be returning home. The President looks wounded, the weight of a soldier, an American - the weight of a life lost at his command lies heavily on his shoulders. The news ages him, and the mood turns somber as you file out of Command Ops back to regular work. If there is such a thing these days.

Seth pokes his head into your office a while later to ask if you want to join the dinner order. _Didn't realize how late it was_ ; time passes in a very strange way when you're underground much of the day. Emily's found an empty office for you to eat. It's casual, your suit jacket's off; you're sitting on the arms of couches and leaning against tables with take-out boxes and beer.

You joke about MacLeish, wondering aloud what you've been thinking the whole day: What kind of politician comes to Washington and refuses promotions, professing only to serve? "Who does that?"

"I did."

All three of you scramble to stand up for President Kirkman. He joins you and sits; pours himself a drink. He's not yet heard that the Congressman has turned down Speaker, blaming it on his long day.

 _That's an understatement_. The President seems to understand MacLeish's reasonings. _Vice Presidency? Interesting. Maybe. Could work._

You chat a while longer, then gather up the trash and straighten up the room. _Day's almost done._ _Just have to clear my desk, prep tomorrow's to-do list, and go home._

But talk to the First Lady first, apparently.

She prepares to tell you about Jeffrey Myers, and you think back to this morning, to asking Emily about him. Her face is usually so easy to read; you thought the non-reaction on her face her inner reaction as well. Her usual expression hadn't slipped an inch.

Suddenly, you want to know. _What other thoughts (feelings?) has she been hiding behind the fresh-face facade?_


End file.
